énouement
by jae-vous
Summary: Here, in the future. We've finally arrived. A collection of moments.
1. Milkshake

_In which I decided to just post all these little one shots in one place from now on. This one also was born on Tumblr._

_I guess I should just give up and embrace the reputation of a fluff author?_

_Ah, well._

* * *

"Now remember, that milkshake is a secret. Don't tell your mom when they finally get here."

The little girl grinned, nodding as she continued to slurp her milkshake greedily. Sucking until she ran out of breath, she released her straw with an exaggerated _yummm, _and looked up at her companion.

"I no tell momma," she implores solemnly, her face most serious. "_Toda,_ gampa."

The older man chuckles, his light blue eyes twinkling with adoration and amusement, her expression reminding him strongly of her mother.

"You are your mother's daughter," he tells her as she goes back to sipping her milkshake, swinging her legs back and forth on the chair next to him. He feels his breast pocket begin to vibrate and he looks at his watch. Reaching into to his pocket, he glances briefly at the screen before answering.

"Speak of the devil," he mutters to his present company before flipping it open.

"Ya, Gibbs," he answers gruffly. The little girl observes him expectantly as he nods and listens.

"Okay, we're already waiting here," he finally says, and starts to gather their jackets and her toys, before grunting a goodbye and snapping the phone shut. Looking down at the little girl, he raises his eyebrows.

"Ready to see your mom and dad?" he asks her, and her brown eyes light up in excitement.

"_Ken!"_ she exclaims once she's finished swallowing the rest of the chocolate treat. Chuckling, Gibbs gets up and the little girl imitates him, dropping off her chair until her dangling feet finally touch the floor. He smiles down at her, taking the now empty cup and walking over to toss it lightly into the nearest trashcan. Then he reaches out to grasp her tiny hand, and she looks up at him expectantly, revealing a toothy grin.

"We go see 'em nows?" Shaking his hand as she bounces up and down in excitement.

He smiles wide before he spins her around.

"What are ya waiting for?" he gives her a light push forward, and her eyes narrow in imitation of her mother's as she scans the suddenly crowded terminal briefly, before her face lights up and she takes off, running.

Gibbs watches fondly as the little girl races across the floor to his freshly sun-kissed and refreshed looking Agents. Ziva David drops to the floor just in time to envelope the little girl into a tight hug, and her partner bends to pick up her abandoned bags with amusement.

Gibbs makes his way over to the reunion, Ziva murmuring into the little girl's hair as they're still locked in a tight embrace.

"Boss," his Senior Agent greets him, the DiNozzo grin even brighter against the stark contrast of his tanned skin. "I'd say it's good to see you, but then it would mean vacation is officially over." Gibbs smirked, clasping him on the back as Ziva straightens up finally, lifting the little girl onto her hip as she continued to jabber excitedly.

"'Bout time you got home, DiNozzo," Gibbs tells the agent, "Little one's been gettin' anxious," he nods to his granddaughter, and Ziva smiles wide before inclining her head to pepper her face with kisses.

"We have missed you very much, _tateleh_." Ziva told her over her giggling. Leaning back, Ziva looks to her boss, frowning.

"She smells like chocolate."

Gibbs raised his eyebrows, shrugging.

"Huh. Wonder why," he looks at his granddaughter, "But we know not to have treats before dinner, right?" she nods her head all the while smiling. Unamused, Ziva looks at them, exasperated, mumbling something in Hebrew under her breath.

Taking charge, Tony straightens and shifts the bags he's carrying.

"Well, as much as I like standing around here, the flight from Tel Aviv is no picnic and I'm ready to get home; I don't know about you all."

Ziva makes a noise in agreement, and Gibbs takes some of the luggage from Tony's grasp before the group begins to navigate through the airport.

"So how was your cousin's wedding, Ziva?"

Ziva sighs, resting her cheek on top of her daughter's head, holding her close as they walk through the terminal.

"Lovely. The beach was more beautiful than I had remembered. And the weather was perfect." She nodded at Tony and herself in acknowledgement.

"Looks like it, hell of a tan for just a week."

"Yes, but it felt like we were away much longer." She conceded, looking toward Tony. They shared a brief look before he threw his around her, wrapping them into his side.

"Yeah, it's good to finally be back." He agrees, while the little girl lifted her head to smile at her father.

"I missed ya lots, daddy. And gampa missed ya lots too."

Both Ziva and Tony laughed out loud, until Gibbs' hand made contact with the back of Tony's head.

"I'm just sick of doing all your paperwork," he told them gruffly, as Ziva continues to chuckle. Tony rubs the back of his head gingerly.

"Feeding our daughter sugar, now violence." he lectures aloud. "Remind me again why we left so soon?"

Gibbs grinned as they reached the exit. Reaching for the door, he looked at his granddaughter, giving her a conspiratorial wink.

"Family." he said simply, and ushered them through the door. "Now c'mon, let's get ya home."


	2. Shabbat, Shalom

_Just a small drabble I wrote for my friends over on tumblr earlier this morning. Simple, short, fluff._

_Can anyone else say residual Shiva feelings?_

_I'm patiently waiting on the writing muses to cooperate._

**_- jae_**

* * *

"_Dis way, momma?_"

Ziva wipes an arm across her brow, and looks up from the dough she had been kneading with no mercy for the past half hour. Her mouth, which was pursed in concentration just moments before from exertion, breaks into a wide grin across her face at the sight before her, despite the mess her eyes fall upon.

"_Kapara sheli_," Ziva exclaims with a laugh, and grabs a towel to wipe her hands so she can grab her phone. "You are more of a mess than our _Challah_."

The little girl gives her the familiar, infamous grin she inherited, and Ziva snaps a picture. Once her mother lowers her phone, she drops her small hands, going back to her imitation of kneading dough. With each pummel of her little fists, a small puff of flour is sent into the air. Ziva shakes her head with amusement and defeat, resigning herself to the mess she'll be at the end of the day, and sends the picture to her partner.

Putting aside her phone, Ziva returns her attention to the little girl, watching her with a warm smile. It's not long before the little girl seems to sense her mother's gaze on her. She looks up then, and the flour that's found it's way on her nose makes Ziva smile wider. Frowning, the little girl scolds her, unaware she's the source of her mother's amusement.

"Momma, we gotsta hurry bafore daddy come home," she says emphatically, before returning her attention back to her small lump of dough.

Ziva's phone beeps and flashes with an incoming message, and she laughs as she reads the daddy in question's response.

_DiNozzo, Tony: I'm not on bath duty tonight. She's all yours._

She chuckles and types back a quick response, before setting her phone aside and returning her attention, once again, to her daughter.

Baking the Challah bread had been her partner's idea. Ziva had hesitated with introducing her to the bond they shared. Their heritage was one of the many doors that could lead to a past that she wished their daughter to remain untouched by. She'd relented only when her partner had pointed out that baking bread wasn't exactly gateway to the world of Mossad.

As anxious as she had been about the thought earlier, she hardly registered the anxiety now as she watched her daughter laugh and play, squealing every time she squeezes the gooey dough between her fingers.

Eventually, Ziva returned her attention back to the dough in front of her, going from kneading to preparing to braid it. She feels her daughter's gaze as she shifts her attention to her mothers work. Ziva pauses after several minutes, and she looks up to regard her daughter's inquisitive expression.

"Would you like to help me with this part, _tateleh_?

She grins, nodding, and Ziva wipes her hands once more, before coming to the other side of the kitchen island. She grabs her daughter's chair, and the little girl giggles as Ziva drags her around to the other side of the counter, coming to a stop beside her. She gazes up at Ziva expectantly, patches of flour now all over her face. Unable to help herself, Ziva plants a kiss on her forehead. Her daughter laughs, and brings up her arm to rest her flour-covered hand on her mother's cheek.

"You show me?" she asks Ziva, grinning.

Her chest tightens with emotion, and Ziva wipes at the flour on her tiny nose, before guiding her daughter's hands with hers.

"_Ken_, I will show you," she confirms softly, and begins delicately moving the dough between their hands, just the way her mother showed her a lifetime ago.

It was one of the few memories she had left of her mother, and for a moment, she aches with the loss of all they'd never have.

But as Ziva looks down at the grinning little girl that is her own, she realizes that she has a whole lifetime of memories yet to come.

Her hands tighten around her daughters', and the little girl looks up at her mother briefly.

"Da Challah 'z for… _Shabbat_?," she tries, hesitating, as she recalls the little that her mother had taught her earlier in the day. "_Ken_?"

Ziva's eyes are glassy as she nods in confirmation.

"_Ken_, very good." She praises, and they share a smile. The loaf is almost completed when they hear the front door open, and heavy, familiar, footsteps grow louder.

The pair look up, and Tony smiles warmly at the sight before him.

"_Shalom_," he smirks, and walks toward them. Coming to stand beside Ziva, she greets him with a shy smile, and she nods toward the little girl grinning up at them.

"What do we say for Shabbat, _tatehleh_? Teach your father."

Tony looks at Ziva in mild surprise and pride, and presses a quick kiss to her cheek before bending down in front of their daughter, still perched on the chair.

Mirroring her father's identical smile, she reaches out her still dough-covered fingers to lean against his shoulder.

"_Shabbat Sh'lom,_" she tests, saying slowly and carefully, grinning up at her mother for approval.

Tony turns his head up to grin widely at Ziva, and the partners share a loaded look. She swipes at her eyes, resting her hand on Tony's shoulder. Reaching for her, he entwines it in his own, before turning back to their daughter.

"_Shabbat Shalom,_" Tony echoes softly. He squeezes Ziva's hand tightly, and she threads her fingers tighter around his grasp, squeezing firmly back.


	3. Her

**_Drabble inspired by alyssinmymind's gifset on tumblr ;) Just posting this here for my non tumblr users._**

**_jae_**

* * *

The last few months had flown right by. And ever since they'd return to work, the partners had never been more eager to extinguish their desk lights, shut down their computers, and respectively hand over their paperwork before eagerly grabbing their things and rushing to the elevator.

Evenings that once held pizza and beer, with the occasional movie or long talks until the early hours of the morning, were willingly exchanged for cheerios, early hour wake-up calls, and _her._ Katharine Hepburn was replaced by Disney princesses, and Cary Grant had been retired for animated princes and heroes.

Gibbs didn't glance up as he heard his front door creak open predictably at seventeen hundred on the dot. He flipped a page in last week's paper, and took a tepid sip of the coffee from the mug off to the side at his kitchen table. The partners barely threw him a greeting before he heard them attempt to tread lightly in a rush to get up the stairs.

They needn't worry though, as he looked up and smirked at the baby monitor placed in front of him. Quiet giggling and gurgling emanated from the small device. When he heard the partners' voices light up upon entering the room and the more vocal squeal of joy that followed, he reached over, silencing the device with a smile.

The partners entered the room, and found her awake and alert - as if she anticipated their arrival at any moment. And that may very well be true; their routine had been the same for several weeks now. His grin was wide as she turned from their daughter, to share her amusement at the little girls' excitement with him, and the adoration and affection and blatant _love_ she found on his face that their daughter always enacted in him would never fail to make her heart skip.

She gave him one of her rare, free smiles that could stretch from The Capitol to Israel, before rushing to the ornate, carved wooden crib Gibbs had crafted not too long ago. And the grin that stretched across her daughter's face mirrored her own, and she felt her partner approach behind her, chuckling softly and greeting her with a soft hello.

The little girl let out her loudest squeal yet, and Ziva gripped the top of the crib with one hand and Tony reached out to grasp the other, entangling their fingers and squeezing them tight.

"_Shalom, tateleh. We are home._"


	4. Cocoon

_for my non-tumblr friends; enjoy a little bit of fluff today. just a small drabble!_

**_jae_**

* * *

"Think she's warm enough in there?"

Her laughter subsides as she looks up from where she's sprawled on her bed, looking toward the voice of her partner from where he casually leans against their bedroom door; Still in his suit and work shoes, having just arrived home. His arms are crossed and his smile is warm as he takes in the view before him. Clearly bath time had just finished; His wife's curls are wet and are soaking through one of his old t-shirts she favors more than the rest. She's laying on her stomach across the bed, and the only sign of his daughter in the mass of fluffy towels is the fist that pokes out, curled around the woman's fingers, and the set of eyes crinkled in laughter that peer out from the warm cocoon.

Ziva's smile is still stretched across her face when she looks up at him, and her eyes light up when she takes in his arrival.

"You are home early," She says in surprise, her tone warm. He grins in reply, disentangling his arms and undoing his tie as he walks into their bedroom.

"Well, it's friday. Bossman understands." He says offhandedly, and she moves over so he can join her on the bed. She smiles softly as his face lights up upon seeing his daughter, and she reaches her hand over to move the towel to better see the baby's face. As she predicted, his presence has elicited her father's heartbreaking smile out of her that she inherited, and she squirms with excitement, little fists fighting against her cocoon as she lets out a gail of laughter.

The two partners mimic her, and her smile doesn't leave her face as he picks her up, lifting her above him as his head falls back into Ziva's lap.

"Hey munchkin! Somebody is talkative today." He coos, and feels Ziva's chuckles reverberate against him. Her hand travels a path from his shoulder to his hair, and she runs her fingers through it lightly, watching the pair.

"Are you surprised? She is your daughter, Tony."

His gaze leaves his daughters as he brings her back down, settling her on his stomach, and he looks up at Ziva's face.

"I think she's more like you than you think, _sweetcheeks_." He tells her, while playing with the soft curls on their daughter's head. Ziva returns his intimate smile, eyes softening as she watches the pair.

"I think she is the best parts of us both." She murmurs quietly, her hand leaving his hair to pause on his cheek. The little girl remains oblivious of their loving gazes, fisting Tony's work shirt with her tiny hands with acute concentration. He reaches for a discarded toy on the bed, putting it in front of her and her attention is successfully diverted from further wrinkling of his shirt. He plays with her toes, softly tickling her feet to watch her face light up at the feeling.

"Ten toes, ten fingers; That's all I care about." He taps each toe, and Ziva's hand travels in search for his free hand. He squeezes it in response.

"And the half of you part. That I care about too."

He smiles as she leans down to press a kiss against his lips.

_Half of him, half of her; Infinitely theirs._


	5. Sandcastle

"_Daddy, that's not how grampa builds sandcastles."_

She stares down at her father, whose knee deep in sand and trying to support a too big tower on the brink of collapsing. She sighs in exasperation as he ignores her, and flops down in front of her father while looking toward her mother, wearing a face identical to the one the woman herself reserves for her father's antics.

Her mother smiles from where she sits, relaxing in the afternoon sun, marking her page and setting the book aside. Looking up, she watches the pair of them, smirking, and her partner's gaze finally breaks away from his task to look up at her.

"Grandpa doesn't know anything about sand. The closest thing he's gotten to a beach is his sandpaper." He tells the child, his eyes trained on his wife. Before he can look down again, the castle tower collapses, and the woman's laugh mingles with their daughter's groan.

"I need back-up, Ziva."

The child gets up then, paddling over to her mother as Ziva adjusts her sunglasses, raising them and blinking harshly against the bright rays.

"You said an hour ago that I was not patient enough for the art of sand crafting." Keeping her tone light as she picks up her drink to sip it, giving no indication she's planning to get up anytime soon. He squints back at her, waving a pink shovel in the air dramatically.

"You aren't," Sand flies as the shovel sails back and forth through the air. "But I can't work with this stuff. American sand follows an entirely different law of physics."

Ziva doesn't glance at him as she turns and rummages through their cooler, pulling out a juice box and popping it's straw into it. She sets it between her legs, grabbing her daughters sandy hands.

"I am certain it is not so much the Haifa sand as it is you, Tony." She replies indifferently, brushing the sand off the girl's small palms. Ziva wipes her hands on her thighs, and gives her daughter a knowing glance.

"Right, _tatehleh_?" The little girl nods back, giving her a toothless grin, and takes the juice box greedily, plucking the straw into her mouth. The wind picks up, and she blinks rapidly as her sea-dried curls whip across her face. Ziva reaches out to tuck the locks back, and the girl smiles in thanks.

"_Todah_, momma." She grins over her straw. She sets the box down, then takes off running, passing her father, and towards the waves lapping onto the beach.

"This bucket won't mold the sand right," Tony calls from where he still squats near a pile of sand.

Ziva looks on, watching as her daughter plops down at the water's edge, shoveling sand into a bucket.

"It sounds like a personal problem."

Tony looks up, shooting her a glare, but Ziva's gaze is trained past him.

"This wind is the problem."

She gets up then, and his focus abandons his failed sandcastle as he watches her walk toward him, bronzed skin glistening with sun oil. Ziva smirks as his eyes travel up her body when she reaches him, and she bends down to be level with him.

"Your daughter does not seem to be having any trouble." She nods her head toward the water, and Tony breaks his lingering gaze to look over his shoulder. Sure enough, the little girl has two bucket sized towers already formed, and they smile as she dribbles the wet sand into little clumps on the top of them.

Ziva laughs as she watches Tony throw his pink shovel in defeat, and he takes a seat in the sand beside her. He turns his attention to her face, and he doesn't think he's ever seen her more beautiful than she is in that moment; Bare faced, sun-kissed, and smiling while she watches their daughter on the very beach she grew up. Her curls blow wildly and freely in the wind, and he leans over impulsively to press a kiss into tanned shoulder.

"You think I'm gonna get as dark as either of you?" He murmurs against her skin, and she turns to smile softly at him.

"You can try. We do have two more days left here."

He hums in response, and they look up when they hear their daughter's squeals of laughter, chuckling as the cool water catches her by surprise, the tide beginning to come in.

"I'm glad we brought her here." Tony murmurs. Ziva stares after her daughter, smiling fondly.

"I am as well." She says quietly, tenting her legs and burying her toes into the sand, not meeting his gaze, and she's quiet for several moments, staring off in thought.

"I want her to have happy memories of here, for if we ever tell her about my family, or where I am from. You know?" Ziva makes the face she does when she's struggling to explain what she's feeling, and Tony nods.

"I know." He answers her softly, and he lets the silence linger for several moments before breaking it.

"Does it feel good to be home?"

Their daughter's laughter rings in the wind, and Ziva's expression is intimate as she finally looks over at him. "Yes."

She presses her lips to his briefly, and she leans back after several seconds with the smile that makes his heart warm.

"Home is with you."


	6. Passover

_**Forgot to post this up over here. Hope you all aren't getting tired of these ;)**_

_**jae**_

* * *

There's a reason he doesn't spend much time in the kitchen, but tonight he's determined to do his best.

The kitchen is a flurry of activity, and he moves around the space fluidly. Sinatra croons from the stereo, and the sounds of his ballads blend with the sizzling and boiling of several dishes in progress. A mixture of aromas fill the warm space, and with the many candles that are set out, along with the decorated table, home has never felt quite so cozy. Wine and two glasses sit in waiting, flowers have been carefully selected, and the only thing that's missing is a certain Israeli partner. But she will be along soon. For now, he sings along to Frank's lyrics while occasionally drumming along to the beat with whatever utensil is in his hand.

After all, he has an audience to entertain.

"What's the verdict,_ mio principessa?"_

The_ tap-tap_ to the beat becomes a stretched out drum roll as Anthony DiNozzo awaits judgement.

His pride lies within his three year old's hands.

He watches as she lifts the spoon to her mouth to sample the soup he'd been trying to follow from his partner's old recipes. She narrows her brown eyes in that oh so familiar way, a look he's seen on her mother's face countless times that typically means careful consideration is in progress. Dropping her spoon, she regards him seriously.

"It's _almost_ like momma's." She holds up two tiny fingers, giving a centimeter of space between them. "Dis much." He takes her grin as a seal of approval, and relief floods him.

"Sounds good enough for me." He holds out his hand for her spoon, and she giggles as she leans forward from where she's perched cross-legged on the kitchen island, handing it back. He turns his attention again to the stove top, and she returns to arranging the plate before her. Sweeping her hair out of her eyes, she looks down at the ornate plate.

"Momma come home soon?" She asks as she delicately places lettuce on the divided section like her father showed her.

Tony glances at the clock above the stove. With it being the first night of Passover, he wasn't sure how long she'd be at her service. His partner, though not particularly observant, still made an effort to keep with some Jewish traditions. She'd never actively pushed him or their daughter into coming with her; After all, she was still quite young. So Ziva had gone alone, promising she'd be home for dinner. And so, preparation for a surprise Passover dinner began, and he had enlisted the help of his three year old and all the informative recipe guides his iPad could provide him; Along with what little Ziva had taught him.

"She should be home any minute," Tony informs her as he turns off the stove top. "So we gotta hurry if we want to surprise her."

The little girl claps her hands in excitement.

"Momma's gonna like the surprise lots!"

Tony grins, winking in her direction.

"That's the plan," he points a wooden spoon at her. "You almost finished with the special plate?"

Her attention has already wained as she picks up a matzo cracker from the open box next to her.

"No," she shakes her head dismissively, and he watches her with amusement. Eyeing the cracker suspiciously that she'd liberated from the box, she holds it up to show him. "Can I have dis?"

He chuckles, turning his back to her.

"You're supposed to be helping me, munchkin."

The voice that answers him is not the one he was expecting.

"Help you with what?"

His head whips around to see his partner, looking around the room in surprise. Her expression becomes warm as she enters the kitchen, dropping her keys onto the counter by their daughter and coming to stand before her. Ziva plants a swift kiss on her forehead before turning her attention back to him.

"What's all of this, Tony?" Her tone is soft, and a soft smile betrays her mouth.

Tony shrugs, giving her a self conscious smile.

"Thought maybe we could celebrate Passover this year," he looks around the kitchen, and then looks back at her. "It's more in control than it looks."

Ziva's smile that she reserves for him only when he's doing something that really makes her happy lights up her face, and she looks around the space in kind, eyes betraying her amusement.

"It looks as though you are doing perfectly fine."

Tony grins, then points next to her to where their daughter still sits on the counter.

"Munchkin here has been a big help."

Ziva glances down at the munchkin in question, who's grinning up at her with a toothy smile.

"Are you, _tatehleh_?" She asks sweetly, brushing her soft curls out of her face.

She nods under her mother's hand, then gestures to the plate before her.

"Uh huh," she confirms proudly, "I make da special plate."

Ziva admires the familiar, antique plate, tracing the rim of it delicately, and her surprise grows along with the sentimental feelings she has for her partner right now. She looks up again at him, and she can feel the wetness in her eyes as she stares at him questioningly.

"Where did you find this?"

He shrugs back vaguely, a mischievous smile on display.

"Knew you had it somewhere around here." He waves his spoon once again in their direction.

"Show her," he says quietly, then indicates to the the pots and pans before him, "I've got this."

Pushing off the counter, she comes over to kiss him swiftly on the cheek, murmuring a soft _Toda, _and squeezes his free hand before going back over to the counter and taking a seat.

He watches them for several moments, and steals glances at them as he finishes preparing dinner.

"This is a Seder plate." He hears Ziva explain, "It belonged to your grandmother, _tatehleh_. Do you know what we celebrate tonight?"

He steals another glance, and the little girl looks up in time to meet her father's gaze. He winks at her, and she grins before looking at Ziva.

"Passover, momma. Like Izreal." She holds up two fingers, looking between the partners for clarification. "Cuz we have two homes, _ken?" _

Ziva looks toward Tony, whose smiling down at the dish he's stirring, clearly the source of her knowledge.

There's a reason she's committed herself to this man, and everything their daughter says and does reminds her of that.

Looking back at the little girl, she nods, leaning forward to press a kiss to the two tiny fingers she holds up.

"_Ken," _She confirms, returning her daughter's grin.

The little girl leans forward to kiss her cheek, and smiles as she pulls back.

"_Happy Passover, momma."_


	7. Heart

_"Let her breathe, DiNozzo."_

The gruff voice is barely heard over the loud, unrestrained giggling that fills the small family room. The man in question looks up, pausing his tickle assault of the small toddler he crouches over. He smiles sheepishly as he glances in the direction of the voice, where his boss and partner sit comfortably on his couch smiling. Taking advantage of her father's lapse in attention, the toddler rolls out from under him, crawling away hurriedly before picking herself up, and wobbles towards the others as fast as she can manage. She's still giggling as she makes it the couch, and the woman that sits waiting catches her in a confident sweep of her arms just before the little girl tumbles to the ground in haste. She wraps her arms around her mother in relief, burying her flushed face into the woman's neck; breathing fast, and laughter still ringing in her voice.

"_Toda_ Momma," She says breathlessly, as Tony gets to his feet again.

"Hey!" He says indignant, coming toward them. "Since when are you a little ninja at escaping?"

The little girl peeks up at him from her mother's guarded embrace, his own smile lit up on her small face.

The man besides them on the couch smiles briefly, his eyes twinkling with amusement and affection.

"She's her mother's daughter," He replies with pride, and the woman next to him smirks, looking down at the toddler with blatant affection. She runs her hand over the little girl's head, smoothing out her hair softly.

"You would not know it otherwise," The woman murmurs, catching the blonde strands to hold up between her fingers. She eyes her partner, eyebrows raised. "Look, I think it is turning even lighter, Tony."

Tony grins as their daughter swipes at his partner's hand impatiently, her face a duplicate of her mother's when she's annoyed, and he laughs affectionately.

"Trust me, Ziva. That personality is all you."

The two share a brief, intimate smile as the toddler fidgets in Ziva's lap, bored from the lack of attention. She turns out of her mother's grasp until she can crawl into the older man's lap next to her, and he accompanies her in arms easily. He flicks her nose lightly, making her giggle, and jiggles her on his knee with easy familiarity. The partner's watch their boss and daughter, grateful that she had this man in her life. The older man seems to catch on to the direction of their thoughts, and he gives them both a brief, self-aware smirk.

"She's equal parts both of ya." He mutters, though his tone is all fondness. "You've got your work cut out for you with this one, Ziver."

Ziva smiles, leaning toward them and catching her daughter's hand around her finger.

"I know it, Gibbs." She murmurs, watching her daughter with blatant adoration. Gibbs looks up to see Tony watching them with a similar expression, and he smirks again before handing the little girl back over to Ziva. She takes her into her arms as Gibbs stands, and he looks at his Senior Agent, nodding toward the kitchen and his tone back to business.

"All right, are ya gonna help me with these steaks or what? You all are here for dinner, right?"

Tony grins in the affirmative.

"Right boss, lead the way."

Gibbs rolls his eyes and he turns in the direction of the kitchen. Tony shares an amused smirk with Ziva. She mirrors his expression, getting up in kind, and their daughter slides off her lap with as much as grace as a toddler possesses. She stumbles into the direction Gibbs went, and Tony ruffles her hair as she passes.

"I help, grampa!" She calls, and the partners chuckle at her retreating back. They hear her enter the kitchen, chattering with their boss as the sounds of dinner preparations begin. Sobering, Tony looks over his shoulder briefly, double-checking to be sure Gibbs was occupied, and he turns back to Ziva, pulling her closer and resting his hands on her hips.

"She's more like you than you think, you know." Tony says softly, and Ziva looks up at him, the secret smile on her face that she reserves solely for him.

"Oh really?" She replies, her eyes lit with curiosity.

Bringing his forehead down to rest against hers, he kisses her lightly, pausing while he gazes back at her.

"Yeah." He says finally. His smile fades as he sobers, and he murmurs very seriously.

"She may look like me, sweetcheeks, but she's got your heart."


	8. Father's Day

_No, I haven't forgotten about my stories, and no, I haven't abandoned anything. I've been super busy with summer classes and working. After summer classes are done, things will go back to normal._

_Of course, I couldn't help myself. It was, after all, Father's day. _

**_jae_**

* * *

She hears the quiet hum of a movie's end credits drift down the hall towards her as she closes the door with a soft thud. Carefully toeing off her shoes in the dimly lit hall, she waits for her eyes to adjust before making her way further into the house. The sun had begun to set just as she made her way home, and her smirk grows with each step she takes, for the lack of lighting and sign of life suggest that the residents of the house had not vacated the room she'd last seen them in earlier that day. She makes her way there now, the hum of what she knows to be a cinematic classic growing louder in her ears.

Her suspicions are confirmed as she approaches the threshold of the living room, finding both father and daughter snuggled in the same position on the couch as she'd left them in. A soft glow permeates the room, cast from the small lamp that rests besides the couch near her partner. Her eyes drift to the coffee table before the pair, where two empty juice boxes lay, along with an empty bowl that the room's lingering aroma suggests held popcorn in the recent hours, as well as a discarded smart phone. Her gaze travels to the television screen as the last detonating note ends, and the screen fades to black. The menu appears briefly for the title screen, but it's quickly zapped away, and the screen goes blank once more.

She turns her head in the direction of the couch just as her partner stretches to set the remote down on the table, careful not to jostle the sleeping girl that rests beside him. His free hand returns to softly rubbing the little feet affectionately that have ended up in his lap, and finally meets her gaze. His bright smile lights his features in the face of her arrival, and with his free hand, he motions for her to join them on the little space left beside him.

_"How was your dinner?"_

She reaches the couch, sitting down and sinking back into the cushions as she toes a juice box out of the way to prop her feet up atop the table. He leans back with her, winding his arm behind her and effectively pulling her closer to him. She turns her head toward him, brushing a kiss across the warm skin of his neck.

"It was nice," She murmurs sincerely, attempting to remain quiet, and he feels her smile against him as she recalls her evening. "I made him my lasagna that he likes."

Her partner rolls his eyes and groans in exaggeration.

"How long have you been doing these Father's Day dinners? You would think he'd want something different for dinner by now."

She pokes him lightly in his side, earning a high yelp in response, and she smiles in satisfaction before soothing the jab with her soft touch.

"It makes him happy, Tony." She chastises, ghosting her fingers up and down his side. "And I am more than happy to make it for him, seeing as he does not complain about how it is not the way_ Nonna Dinozzo_ would make it."

Tony heaves a sigh before adopting the air of somebody who considers authentic Italian food superior to all others.

"I've told you, _sweetcheeks_, It's not your fault. Italian food simply can't be replicated."

She hums in response, biting her tongue and continuing on.

"Well, he enjoyed it, and was pleased I made enough for leftovers." She smiles to herself for several moments, before casting a cautious glance to be sure the little girl was still sound asleep. Once confirmed, she continues, tone much more hushed. "He's almost finished building her playset, did you know? You may have to help him with the roof, though, if it will be finished in time for her birthday next week."

Tony turns his head, trying to glance at her face that she's tucked underneath his chin.

"It has a _roof_?" He whispers excitedly.

Ziva rolls her eyes good-naturedly at his childlike enthusiasm, a smile pulling at her mouth.

"Yes, for the little, uhm, what is it that you call it? A treehouse?"

"There's a _treehouse_?" His voice rises, and their daughter stirs beside them briefly at the volume of his tone. She shushes him with a glare, and they wait hesitantly until it appears she will continue to rest on. They relax, and she returns to resting her head under his neck.

"Yes," she sighs contently, her hand resuming it's trail up and down his side. "Or a look-out. I do not know, it has a window. And a ladder."

Tony leans back against the couch once again, laughing softly.

"She's one lucky munchkin," he murmurs, "Good thing I got my day of affection today. Grandpa is gonna be her new favorite this time next week."

Ziva laughs along with him, knowing he meant it as seriously as it sounded. Her hand drifts to where his still rests on their daughter, and she caresses his hand gently.

"She was very excited to spend today watching movies with you. She spent all morning picking them out. Did you like her card?"

She glances up to look at him, and the adoration that radiates from him as he looks down at their daughter brings a lump to her throat and makes her eyes ache.

He grins widely as he turns his gaze toward her, and his eyes are shining with affection.

"Yeah… . Yeah, I loved it." He laughs, casting a gaze toward the floor, and she follows it, finding the brightly colored card resting next to his work laptop. "Don't know how you managed to clean up all the glitter and paint, though."

She grunts in acknowledgement; the residual smell of her Dawn kitchen soap still lingers in her nose.

"It took half the bottle of soap," She recalls, but her tone isn't regretful.

He laughs, stroking the little girl's cheek tenderly.

"All in a day's work of an almost three year old." She chuckles in agreement, watching as her partner brushes her wild, inherited curls from her peaceful face.

"I can't believe she's going to be three," He whispers in disbelief, and she smiles sadly in acknowledgement. "She's getting so _big_, Ziva."

Ziva snuggles closer, tapping his hand softly with her finger.

"You will always be her Daddy, Tony." She grasps his fingers tightly before reaching up to slide her hand over his heart. "She adores the ground you walk on. That will never change."

Instead of the smile she expects to see light up his face, anxiety instead pulls at his features. He's quiet for several moments, and she waits him out as he works out how to say what has him quite so drawn and serious.

"I know it's not that way with her, Ziva." He murmurs finally, hesitant. "It's different. But I look at our relationships with our fathers and I just hope … I want better for her."

She watches him brush his thumb against the curve of their daughter's cheek, and the reflexive smile that appears at the touch. Tony's face melts at the response, and Ziva fights back tears that sting at her eyes.

"_Tony_," she begins, tearing her eyes away from his actions, and her tone commands his attention fully. She narrows her eyes when he meets her stare, and Ziva increases the pressure of her hand on his chest. "It will be different. It is different. The way you look at her, at me…" She falters, and shakes her head to clear her thoughts. "You have all of the love she will ever need." He hears what she doesn't say; the love that her _and_ their daughter will ever need. Her words reassure him more than her intensity alone would have. He finally smiles at her, and she leans forward to kiss him indulgently for several moments.

"Happy Father's Day, Tony." She murmurs between each kiss. "You will have many more to come."

Tony smiles against her lips, and rests his forehead against hers briefly before a soft sigh comes from their daughter, and he pulls away to accommodate the little girl that finally stirs, and snuggles herself comfortably into his lap.


End file.
